Marry Christmas. Jane GoodgerЧитать онлайн книгу.
here. No doubt she knows, so I was not telling her anything she did not already comprehend. We agree on this: She does not want to marry me. I do not want to marry her. And yet we will be married.” He shrugged. “I thought it best to confront the issue.”
Edward shook his head in sad disbelief. “Have you learned nothing in your twenty-seven years about women?”
“I thought honesty would work well between us,” Rand said, sounding defensive. “And I still do. I do realize I have to woo her a bit. It won’t do to have her in chains at the altar.”
“Or in your bed,” Edward said with a grin.
Rand ignored his remark. “I’m not an ogre, after all. It’s why I’m here, to get to know her a bit before we marry.”
“Yes, I suppose it would be prudent to know your bride a bit before you pledge to love and honor her until death and all that. Is she plain, by the way?”
Rand sat in a nearby leather chair and lifted one ankle onto the other knee. “She wasn’t completely…unpleasant,” he said carefully. In truth, he found himself surprisingly attracted to her physically. He had not expected that at all.
Edward gave him a sharp look. “Not ugly, then?”
“Hardly. She’s actually quite pretty. And rich. Which makes me believe her mother was holding out for the loftiest title possible and I was the only duke who took the bait.”
“Then a mere earl wouldn’t have a chance.”
“Sorry, old man, I think not. Once I get the girl away from her mother, she might even be pleasant to talk with as well as to look at. Mrs. Cummings is a termagant. Miss Cummings becomes a different person entirely when she is in the presence of her mother.”
“Oh?” Edward said, his eyes again drawn to the book he was holding.
“Boring you, am I?”
Edward smiled. “Of course not.” He put the book back on the shelf, but it was clear the gesture was reluctant.
“Miss Cummings does not speak in front of her mother unless spoken to. She offers few opinions, and when she does, they are so carefully neutral they are not opinions at all. And yet the brief time I was alone with her, she displayed intelligence and independent thought. It was clear that dinner this evening was torture for the poor girl.”
“Then it’s just as well you’ll be separated from her mother by an ocean.”
“Indeed,” Rand said thoughtfully. “I’ve been invited to something called the Casino tomorrow morning. Do you know what it is?”
“Tennis. They are mad about tennis, these people. And apparently society meets there in the mornings to gossip. Sounds tedious to me. But next week there’s some sort of tennis tournament that sounds interesting.”
“And you’ll accompany me there tomorrow, of course. And everywhere.”
Edward gave him a tight smile. “Of course.”
Chapter 5
Rand stood at the entrance to the Newport Casino’s Horse Shoe Piazza and thanked God he’d thought to invite Edward along with him. The lush grassy area, surrounded by the shingle-style building with its dark green trim, was crowded with Newport’s elite. Summer whites and pastels were nearly blinding in the morning light, and when Rand stepped into the sun from the shadows, it seemed as if every body in the place turned his way.
“Brace yourself, old man, you are about to be thrust into the midst of the wolves,” Edward whispered in his ear.
“You are an unattached earl. Perhaps you should watch out more than I. From what I’ve learned so far, few people thwart a Cummings and I have been marked with a bright red ‘X.’ But you, my friend, are fair game.”
The two men took bracing breaths before proceeding, pleasant smiles plastered on their faces. “Save me,” Edward whispered, causing Rand to laugh aloud.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Cummings gushed, hurrying to be the first to greet him. “Let me introduce you around.”
“First I would like to introduce my good friend, Lord Hollings, Earl of Wellesley.”
Mrs. Cummings gave a quick, awkward curtsy. “Lord Hollings,” she said. “How nice of you to accompany His Grace.”
For some reason, Rand got the feeling Mrs. Cummings was not at all pleased that Edward had come along, and he wondered if she wanted her daughter alone to be seen with English nobility.
During the next fifteen minutes, Rand met at least a hundred mamas who fawned over him but fairly beamed at poor Edward. As yet, he had not caught sight of his future bride among the throng of pastel-wearing young women. At some point, Edward managed to escape, the cad, and left him alone to face the adoring throngs. He was called everything from “Your Lordship” to “Your Dukeship” and didn’t bother correcting a single person. Americans, after all, were completely ignorant of the peerage. A small orchestra played rather badly in one corner, though no one seemed to notice. Or perhaps they simply did not recognize the bad play for what it was.
Ah, there was Edward, standing by a table laden with pastries. He craned his neck over Mrs. Cummings, whose large and feathered hat blocked most of his view, and wished most ardently that he was with Edward alone in their cottage instead of in this crowded piazza.
“Is Elizabeth here?” he asked, when it appeared Mrs. Cummings had run out of people to introduce him to. The older woman smiled, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth. He wondered suddenly, if Elizabeth didn’t smile because she was so afflicted.
“I believe I just saw her standing in the corner with her cousins. There,” she said, nodding her head in the opposite direction of the food. With an inward sigh, he begged to be excused, and headed to where Elizabeth stood looking completely miserable at his approach.
“You could at least pretend to be happy to see me,” he said lightly when he reached her side. The two girls next to her giggled.
“My cousins, Miss Julia Cummings and her very much younger sister, Miss Sarah Cummings,” Elizabeth said, frowning at the giggling girls.
Rand gave them a sharp bow, eliciting more giggles from the pair.
“Go find your mother,” Elizabeth said, and the two girls rushed away. But not before Rand overheard one say to the other, “I thought she said he was horrid. He seemed quite nice to me.”
Elizabeth had the good grace to turn violently red.
“Horrid?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I don’t believe that was the precise word I used,”
Elizabeth said with a small groan. “I do apologize. They are very young.”
Rand looked longingly toward the table of food.
“Would you care to accompany me to the pastries?”
Rand wished he could capture the look on her face at that moment, for she looked so ridiculously pleased by his suggestion he wondered if, in addition to everything else, her mother starved her. At least she was smiling and showing a mouth of even, white teeth. She had a lovely smile that transformed her from a pretty girl into a beauty and he was nearly struck dumb by the change in her. “I see you are as famished as I.”
Elizabeth gave him a startled look. “Oh. Yes,” she said almost absently, for her heart was racing madly as she drank in the sight of Henry standing by the refreshment stand staring at her like, well, like a starving man looks at food. She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t noticed his appearance yet, though she didn’t know what Alva would do if she did. For now, he was here, Henry was here and looking at her and smiling the way he only smiled for her.
The duke held his arm for her and she placed a gloved hand as lightly as she could without ignoring it completely. He was taking far too long to